


had a dalliance with valiance

by TheGodWith5Yen



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, POV Omera (Star Wars), Pining, Planet Sorgan (Star Wars), ex rebel omera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:27:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29927202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGodWith5Yen/pseuds/TheGodWith5Yen
Summary: Her chest felt so light and warm.When had she last felt like this?The Mandalorian turned towards her.Oh.She couldn’t even see his face, didn’t even know his name, but Omera knew him.Which was apparently enough.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Omera
Comments: 7
Kudos: 28
Collections: Mandomera Week 2021





	had a dalliance with valiance

**Author's Note:**

> This is for mandomera week day 1: pining <3
> 
> Title from 'Meticulous Bird' by Thao & the Get Down Stay Down

For so long, Omera told herself two simple facts:

Survive no matter the costs. 

Her daughter was the only thing that mattered. 

On Sorgan it had been easy to immerse into the lifestyle of the village people. She would spend the days farming the krill, learning from the people who had welcomed her into their homes. The people of the village were eager and happy to accept Omera as one of their own, an elderly couple allowing her into their home and, the summer when Winta turned four, adopted Omera as their own daughter. It was an easy and simple life that made her life’s objectives approachable. 

Even if Omera still woke up some days, sweat on her brow as she hugged her daughter closer to herself. This life was safe. Safer than what Omera had endured for years before finding sanctuary on Sorgan.

Until it wasn’t. 

The Mandalorian was sitting among the crowded circle, listening as the adults told stories to the children. The day had been long and hard as they had taught the others how to fight, something that pained Omera to see as her soft-hearted family wrapped their hands around blasters. The Relby-v10 mortar gun was familar in Omera’s hands, the rebound that threatened to shake her if it hadn’t been for her steady stance and hands something she had never thought she would feel in her bones again. It had been years since she had last touched a blaster rifle and the familiarity brought back an unyielding sorrow deep within her stomach that seemed to ease when the Mandalorian had tilted his head slightly as he watched her shoot. 

He was beyond words.

Omera was sitting across from the man, watching as he leaned forward slightly as he listened to the stories. His hands were folded together in between his knees and his helmet was trained onto Stoke as the man spoke. His son was sitting on Winta’s lap. Most of the village's children surrounded him, laying their heads against his legs and touching at his armor. There was an awkwardness to him from times when it came to children, but Omera could see that he enjoyed seeing them play and indulged each of their questions and curiousness regarding his armor. 

As the night wore on, families left for their home with their tired children. Omera stood up to pick up Winta, only for the Mandalorian to place a hand onto her wrist and pick up her daughter into his arms. He carefully meneuvered her until her cheek was resting against his shoulder. Omera swallowed as she watched him. Without a word she crouched down and grabbed the small green child. 

The child tugged at her hair and looked up at her with his beautiful large eyes. His cooing was soft and Omera felt as her whole body softened. The day had made her tense and worried; no matter how familiar a blaster rifle was to Omera, its prescene made her on edge, as though she would be back within hidden shadows, ready to strike. The child and the father, their presence instead brought her a comfort and a gentleness Omera hadn’t been aware she had been lost to until now. 

Omera watched the Mandalorian’s back as he walked in front of her, towards her home. The moonlight illuminated him in an odd and pleasing way. His shoulders were broad, though Omera couldn’t help but wonder how they would soften without the armor. His steps were steady and reliable. Omera opened the door of her home to him and showed him to her bed so he could place Winta down. She watched as he carefully placed her among the blankets, his fingers brushing Winta’s curls away from her mouth. Omera smiled. 

Her chest felt so light and warm. 

When had she last felt like this? 

The Mandalorian turned towards her. 

Oh. 

She couldn’t even see his face, didn’t even know his name, but Omera knew  _ him _ . 

Which was apparently enough. Omera looked at the Mandalorian, at the man who was staying in their village to help people he did not know keep themselves safe, at the man who had carried her daughter home, and she knew she loved him. It was a kind of love that would stay in her bones, nestled there for the end of her time, something meaningful and true. There was no lust or want. Simply love. 

Omera smiled at him.

His departure was inevitable, though for a moment, one breathtaking, stunning, prolonged moment, Omera thought he would stay. But he had set his hands on top of hers and she knew. The Mandalorian would leave; his soul was not meant for a single place and it was what was best for his son. 

So he left, and with him went a piece of Omera’s heart. 

And she stayed, and with her stayed a piece of the Mandalorian’s heart. 

Some days Omera would dream of what it would be, a life with the Mandalorian. She had left the strong-willed and rebellion-streaked life when she had learned of her pregnancy with Winta. She had ran. Ran away from it all. Despite knowing their usefulness, she had left behind her blaster rifles (a Relby-v10 mortar gun that had once been in the arms of an Imperial soldier before her own, Omera had fought tooth and nail to get away from them and had won that fight. There was still a scar along her outer left thigh from where the blaster had grazed her. There had also been her standard-issued A280, which she used less often seeing as she had usually stuck to the high ground when she could), her people, the fight, she abandoned them all. 

Still, despite knowing the hardships in the Mandalorian’s life, she longed to be by his side. If it was with him, she could see that the fight was worth it. 

Omera wondered how him and the child were. 

Wherever in the galaxy they ended up in, Omera could only hope they were safe.

“Mama,” Winta whispered against her shoulder. 

Omera brushed at her hair and cuddled closer to her daughter, “Yes?”

Winta’s hands fiddled with the front of Omera’s sleeping dress. It took her a few minutes before she asked, “Do you think the Mandalorian and his son will ever come back?” 

Omera kissed the top of Winta’s head. Everyday she wondered the very same. She looked up towards the sky and thought about that ship of his, thought of how far away the rest of the galaxy was from where Omera stood. Before it had been a blessing, but with each passing day, week, month, she resented the land. Most days she loathed herself for not having the courage to follow the Mandalorian. He didn’t have to stay because the child loved the village; Omera could have left because her child loved the Mandalorian and his son. 

“I don’t know Winta.” 

“I hope he does. I miss them.” 

“I do too.”

The months passed. 

And passed. 

Nearly a year since the Mandalorian had last been in the village had come. 

And then. 

He arrived again. 

A step forward. And another. Omera couldn’t quite believe her eyes as a Mandalorian, beautiful with a full body shining silver armor, walked into the village. In his arms was the child, who was waving about his small hands. Before she knew it, Omera was splashing out of the ponds and running towards the Mandalorian. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. 

“You’re here.” 

Tentative hands were placed on her hips. 

“I am.”

“I wasn’t sure you would come back.” 

The Mandalorian tipped his head to the side before pressing his forehead to hers. The Mandalorian iron was cool and smooth against her skin. Omera breathed in. The child was between them and pulling at her hair. She laughed and pulled back. Already, the Mandalorian was pulling her hair out of the child’s mouth, saying in a stern voice, “That is  _ not  _ food Grogu.” 

“Grogu?” Omera smiled. 

The child cooed and giggled. 

“Grogu.” Omera leaned down to kiss at his wrinkled forehead. She could feel the Mandalorian’s eyes on her and when she glanced up, his helmet was tilted towards her. Omera smiled at her as she let the child—Grogu—grab onto her hand. “Will you be here to stay?” 

A breath. 

A longing. 

“I would like to. If that—is alright?” His helmet glanced away. Omera placed a hand on his cheek and, slowly, slowly, moved his gaze back towards her. “I still have business that would take me offworld, but I was hoping that your offer was still an option.” The Mandalorian’s words were hesitant and quiet and while Omera couldn’t see his face, she could feel that their gaze was connected. It hadn’t occurred to her that he would ever be unsure of his place within her heart and home. He  _ belonged _ . It was simple, much like the love she felt for this awkward, silly man.

She felt her grin widen as she looked at the Mandalorian. “I would love nothing more than for you to stay.” There was more to say, more to learn, but they were interrupted by Winta and several other children, who hugged at the Mandalorian’s legs and reached to tickle at Grogu’s stomach. Omera laughed as she watched the Mandalorian kneel down to their level and set Grogu down to play with the children. Winta wrapped her arms around his shoulders and, in a show of affection, gave the side of his helmet a smacking kiss that made Omera’s laughter ring. 

The Mandalorian’s head shifted towards Omera and she had never felt so secure until then. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this!!! Comment and leave a kudos if you did <3


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